


Ad Inferni

by Bitch_In_The_Blue



Series: Nunc Scio Quid Sit Amor [2]
Category: Grand Theft Auto Series (Video Games), Grand Theft Auto V, Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas
Genre: Abandoned cities, Anxiety, Apocalypse, Best Friends, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Confessions, Consensual Possession, Dead People, Death, Death Threats, Demon/Human Relationships, Demonic Possession, Demonology, Demons, Depression, Desperation, End of the World, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Ghost Town, Guilt, Guns, Help, Hiding, Homelessness, Human/Monster Romance, Isolation, Nightmares, Other, Paranoia, Post-Apocalypse, Rituals, Secret Relationship, Secrets, Snipers, Succubi & Incubi, Survival Horror, Symbiotic Relationship, Travel, Trevor is a demon, Violence, admission of guilt, scavenging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:27:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24602341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bitch_In_The_Blue/pseuds/Bitch_In_The_Blue
Summary: Three months after Tommie Vercetti leaves open a summoning ritual, San Andreas is left in ruins; and the demonic plague is spreading uncontrollably.The only thing left to do is to close the ritual. Or die trying.
Relationships: Franklin Clinton/Tracey De Santa, Trevor Philips/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Nunc Scio Quid Sit Amor [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735024
Kudos: 10





	1. And Ever

Everything seemed quiet. But that wasn’t enough reassurance to let her guard down. Rifle gripped tightly in her hands while she moved.   
The only sounds around her were birds chirping somewhere in the area.   
Careful, quiet steps through the apartment complex brought her upstairs. The first floor had been picked clean over the last week or so. There was only ever time to search one unit per trip before they had to make their way back.   
The first unit she found had an undisturbed welcome mat outside the door. Nobody had likely been there since the evacuation.   
Or maybe there was someone still inside.   
She tested the door. Locked.  
But when she withdrew her hand, she heard the tumblers shift; and the door opened.  
Tommie raised her weapon as a precaution, but no one was on the other side.  
"Thanks," she murmured and stepped inside the unit. Weapon pointed readily around every corner, Tommie first made sure that she and Trevor were alone.   
All clear. Whoever lived here must've evacuated.  
  
The place looked untouched, aside from what had been clear panic from its occupants during evacuation. Rugs were bunched up, an entire bag of clothing was left behind on the floor near the doorway. Three bedrooms, clothes on the floor in each one. Like the closets had been turned out and emptied of essentials. Nails left on the walls told the story of picture frames being taken with- family photos to be kept safe.  
The room that bothered her was a nursery.   
Decorated with pink and yellow. A little girl's room that would never be occupied again.   
Tommie felt Trevor's touch on her arm, reminding her to hurry. She had to turn away from the room or else she would dwell on the thoughts.  
  
She checked the refrigerator for bottles of water- but was only met with the smell of rotting food. The area hadn't had power in a month.  
The cabinets were another story.  
Tommie opened each one to survey what was inside.   
Dishes. Cups. Tinfoil. Cleaning supplies.  
Yes!   
She found the cabinets that stored dry and canned goods.   
Boxes of dry pasta, cans of soup, pancake mix, snacks, and more. And none of it was expired yet.  
"Jackpot," Tommie muttered under her breath, dropping her backpack and filling it with what she could carry. "We'll come back tomorrow for--"  
  
A scratching noise on the far wall got her attention, and she swiftly pointed her rifle across the kitchen.   
After thirty seconds of tense silence, nothing happened.   
_ "Rats."  
_ "Just rats in the wall," Tommie agreed, reluctantly lowering her weapon to zip her full backpack shut and haul it over her shoulders. "Fuckin' rats always get me... Let's head back."  
  
It had been three months since San Andreas had been infested. A lot of people died in the first few weeks.   
Those who were alive by that point were advised to evacuate.    
What nobody had counted on was that the infestation would reach past the island. Demons had latched themselves onto host bodies and were spread to the mainland U.S.   
  
Everything quickly went to shit.  
  
San Fierro was once a bright, sunny city on the coast, just a few miles from San Andreas’s shores.    
Now it was in ruins.    
Nearly empty, save for scavengers like herself.    
She kept to the back streets so she wouldn’t attract unwanted attention, and moved slowly so nothing in her backpack would make any noise.   
Trevor acted as a scout, peering ahead in every direction to make sure her path was clear of threats.   
She was considered the luckiest member of her group because she always came back safe with a decent haul.    
No one knew about Trevor. They couldn’t.   
Not even Lita.  
  
“You did good,” her mother marveled at the haul, taking stock of each item. “ _Really_ good. Any problems while you were out?’  
“None,” Tommie replied. “Didn’t see another living thing.”   
Lita nodded. “They might’ve moved on from San Fierro. Heading east now that nothing’s left here.”  
“Could be.” Tommie knew that wasn’t true. There just weren’t as many hosts as there were demons in San Fierro. Anyone uninfected had moved on weeks ago- save for their dwindling group of survivors sharing this deserted hotel near the shore.    
They started out with thirty two people.   
They were down to twenty, as of last week.   
Demons were still very present in San Fierro. But Tommie was likely the only member of their group who was safe from being possessed.    
Trevor could only keep  _ her  _ safe as his host. She had to protect Lita herself.   
Remembering that was daunting. Scary. What would happen to Lita if Tommie were killed by something  _ stronger _ than Trevor?   
“I’m gonna get some sleep,” Tommie said to try to break her thoughts before they could progress. “I went far today.”   
  
Tommie and Lita were lucky to get out of San Andreas when they could.    
Having fled to Paleto Bay on that first day was the right choice.   
When they got there, Lita tended to the cut on the back of Tommie’s leg and they holed up in a garage for a few days. Glued to the internet to see news developments.   
Eventually it became clear that San Andreas was fucked, and they hijacked a boat from the coastline and made their way east toward the mainland where they found fellow survivors and were welcomed to the hotel.   
  
Lita waited for resolution.   
Tommie waited for death.   
No one knew this was her fault.  
  
It was the secret she had to live with, and it weighed heavily on her even now as she stared at the wall of their room. Lita wanted to share some of their food with the family in the room next door, so Tommie and Trevor had the room to themselves for at least a few minutes.   
They could only speak when they were alone. As always.   
“Still think we can fix this?” She quietly asked.   
No answer from Trevor. Even he didn’t know.   
“We’d have to go back to Los Santos,” she noted. “And the apartment burned down.” She turned over to see him standing over her bed. He didn’t look like a shadowy figure when she was awake, but ‘diluted’. He looked like light being refracted off of a hot surface. Harder to see his shape, but he was definitely visible. At least to her.    
_ “Safe. Here.” _ _  
_ She could vaguely hear him too. He didn’t have a voice in the literal sense. She could just hear a tiny whisper in her head that she recognized as Trevor’s.   
He became so much stronger since the summoning. Possibly because the gateway to wherever he was from was so wide open. And because she _allowed_ him to latch onto her.   
“But is it really?” She wondered, legs drawing up until she could reach the scar on her left calf.    
The demons were still able to hurt her even without hosts.    
Other people didn’t seem to have that problem. They were either possessed or they got away-- it was why people still believed it was a virus or unending crime wave.   
The demons seemed to prefer having physical bodies. Something to solidify their existence on Earth.   
Having Trevor already attached to her, as well has having the book with the closing ritual, made her their biggest threat.   
They were gunning for her more than anyone.   
She had removed the cover from the book and replaced it with the cover from the hotel room’s bible. A perfect fit. Hidden in plain sight.   
“We can’t just stay here forever,” she reminded Trevor. “I can’t live the rest of my life knowing this is all my fault-”   
She silenced when she overheard Lita’s keycard slide through the door’s lock, and the door opening just after. Snapping her eyes shut and pretending to sleep.   
Listening as Lita double locked the door, kicked off her shoes, and sighed.   
  
A moment of silence.   
  
“Give us strength,” Lita uttered, almost inaudible.   
Tommie had her back to her mother, and was able to open an eye to see Trevor’s distorted shape. Giving him a resolute look.   
This place was safe, but not for much longer.   
She’d made her decision.


	2. Resolution

Splitting pain in her head.  
She couldn't ignore it at the forefront of her nightmares. Faces she didn't recognize, hands grabbing at her that burned her skin, the incomprehensible whispers of thousands of voices she didn't recognize.  
Aware only that they were all threatening her life in different horrible ways.  
A sudden stabbing pain in her chest as an unknown force pierced clean through her heart.  
  
Tommie woke with a sharp gasp.   
Greeted by the ceiling staring back at her.  
She worked on trying to ease her heartbeat back to normal with deep, controlled breathing .  
She woke from violent nightmares regularly. Sometimes after excruciating pain. Usually with a tension headache. Like now.  
At first she believed these were her guilty thoughts coming back to her-- then realized eventually that these dreams were threats of what would be done to her if she interfered with the open doorway.  
Having just gotten away alive the first time was a stroke of luck. She might not be so lucky next time.  
“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath. Her head was pounding as she sat up.  
  
“Another nightmare?” Lita asked from across the room, heating up some of the canned food haul on a camping stove.  
“Yeah,” Tommie sighed and got out of her bed to pull on her boots.  
Silence for a moment as the tied the laces, wondering what she should say to her mom about having to go back to Los Santos.  
Should she even say anything at all?  
How would Lita even react...?  
She tried to inconspicuously reach into the nightstand for the book disguised as a bible, and quickly put it in her backpack when she got a hold of it.  
“Didn’t think you were the religious type,” Lita noted, having caught a glance.  
“I didn’t think you were either,” Tommie replied, bringing her backpack to where Lita was sitting. “I heard you last night.”  
“I’m not even sure who exactly I was talking to,” Lita admitted and put some of the soup she’d made back into its can for Tommie. “Hungry?”  
Tommie took the can. “Fuck yeah. Thanks.”  
She drank it directly out of the can. Savoring the small moment of peace. There might not be many of these left in the future.  
Unless she closed the ritual.  
“Mom, I gotta talk to you about something.”  
Lita looked up from her food. “What’s wrong?”  
“I did something bad. A few months ago,” Tommie began.  
Lita frowned. “What is it?”  
Tommie opened her mouth to speak, but she couldn’t find the words to say. “I-” she had to force the words out. “- caused all of this.”  
Lita’s brows furrowed, about to ask how.  
But Tommie continued before she could ask. “It's about that ‘someone’ I told you about before. But he wasn't really a 'someone'.”  
“Then what was he?”  
Tommie wasn’t sure how to explain to her mom that she had allowed a literal demon to attach to her.  
So she started from the beginning. Moving into her apartment, finding that she was being haunted, communicating, how he was the one to kill the group of traffickers who stabbed her.  
Less than proud of how she’d opted to get rid of him, even less proud of how she was so desperate to bring him back that she’d cut off her hair as a sacrifice.  
And finally, how she’d ruined everything by leaving open the ritual.  
Lita blinked. “Are you sure that’s what happened? Sometimes things line up, and-”  
“I’m sure,” Tommie interrupted in a stern tone. “He’s still here. He’s been with me ever since. Keeping me-- _us_ safe.” She looked for him in the room, and found him near her bed. “Trevor, show her. It’s okay.”  
Lita didn’t seem moved-- until the blanket on Tommie’s bed was quickly dragged to the floor.  
  
“I need you not to tell anyone about this,” Tommie said.  
It took a few minutes to get Lita to relax.  
Knowledge of demons was hard to cope with- especially the part where her own daughter was responsible for this epidemic.  
“This is a lot to take in,” Lita sighed. “It’s a really fucking _bad_ secret to keep, but-- I have to keep it for you.”  
“I wasn’t sure if I should ever tell you,” Tommie replied. “... Last night I considered just leaving. Just not saying anything and just disappearing."  
"I would've gone to look for you," Lita said.  
"And you wouldn't be safe out there," Tommie nodded. "That's why I knew I'd have to tell you… I don't want you coming after me. Trevor and me have to do this on our own."  
Lita's eyes welled up, and she had to put real effort into keeping it together. "So I'm just supposed to let you go out on a suicide mission? You expect me to sit back and be fine knowing you're out there alone? People are going to ask about you going away, what am I even supposed to tell them?"  
"Tell them I'm going out to find somewhere more sheltered," Tommie said. "And that I'll come back when I find it… I know you don't want me to go. But everything is going to get so much fucking worse if I don't fix it."  
  
It took a long time to convince her, but Tommie eventually did.  
She packed a few days worth of rations in her backpack, as well as plenty of ammunition for her rifle and 9mm sidearm.  
She left the hotel after a tearful goodbye with her mom.  
Backpack over her shoulders, right in her hands, Trevor with her keeping an eye out.  
They would fix this.   
Failure wasn't an option.


	3. Not Alone

The benefit of walking along the ocean was that you were only vulnerable on one side. The downside was the walk being much longer.   
It was safer this way. Tommie had quickly learned from others' mistakes of searching for supplies in the heart of urban areas. Building cover gave the possessed more places to hide; and in Tommie’s case, more improvised weapons any hostless demon could hurt her with.  
  
San Fierro was a lot rainier than Los Santos. Likely thanks to how much further north it was.  
After a couple hours of walking through rain, Tommie found shelter in a warehouse in the Easter Basin. Beside the ruins of a moored ship.  
Hopefully she would find a boat when the rain let up. The sooner she got to San Andreas, the better.  
For now, she was huddled in the warehouse. Her rain jacket had kept her top half dry, but her pants, socks, and shoes were soaked from her knees down. Cold.  
She fell asleep leaned against a dusty corner, warmed by Trevor protectively wrapping himself around her.  
  
The rain let up sometime while she was sleeping, but the skies were still gray and hazy. Fog provided much needed cover as she searched the docks for boats.  
The possessed must have been aware of survivors fleeing to San Fierro, because every boat at the docks were damaged.   
Some were sunken, only partially above the surface thanks to their mooring lines still connected to the dock.  
Others were further sabotaged. Still afloat, but either torched, dashboards smashed apart, or with destroyed motors.  
  
She had to move along, keeping an eye out for a functional boat while she still had some daylight. Heading North along the coastline while she still had fog to hide in.   
She wasn’t familiar with San Fierro’s streets yet, so she kept her map in her hands, having Trevor act as her second set of eyes as she plotted out her next moves on the map.  
She wasn’t far from the Gant Bridge that led to Tierra Robada- the beginning of the desert. There was a marina across the bridge. Possibly a working boat.  
_“Car.”_  
“Car?” Tommie whispered, looking up and seeing nothing in the mist. She couldn’t even hear the sound of an engine.  
_“CAR.”_   
Trevor pushed her away from the road, and Tommie stumbled through the grass toward the water for a few steps until she broke into a run. She heard a vehicle approaching quickly, and could see headlights in the fog.  
_“HIDE.”_  
“There’s nowhere to hide!” Tommie gasped when she reached the railing of the sea wall.  
The headlights were still coming, and she wasn’t sure if they’d see her from the road.  
She gripped the steel safety railing. Tried to shake it. Sturdy.  
The vehicle’s brakes squealed, and she knew they had spotted her.  
“ _Shit_ ,” she hissed, sliding her belt from her jeans and climbing over the railing.  
She looped the leather belt around the steel bars, close to the ground so they’d be less noticeable, and tightly wrapped either end of the belt around each hand as she carefully lowered herself down the sea wall until she was dangling.  
Heart pounding in her ears, listening as carefully as she could when the idling engine of the large vehicle sounded so close by. Fifty feet at most.  
“Is someone coming?” She whispered under her breath, hands hurting from her belt having to hold her weight, plus the weight of her backpack. If she didn't get up soon, she feared the belt might break.   
_"Wait."  
_Tommie’s jaw tightly clenched and she listened carefully for noise.   
Silence. The grass muffled any approaching footsteps.  
She was shaking. Holding tightly to the leather belt for dear life. Letting herself hang from it so that she remained close to the sea wall.  
She heard a sharp whistle from the vehicle.  
A closer, slightly different whistle came in reply. Whoever was looking for her was communicating something.  
A few long seconds of frightening silence.  
Then a car door closed, and the vehicle moved on.  
_"Safe."  
_"Fuck, thank you," Tommie gasped, finally taking a breath. She must have been holding it since climbing over the railing.  
She planted her boots firmly against the sea wall and took slow, careful steps to scale the wall. Maintaining tension on her lifeline by looping it around her forearms, shortening it to bring herself up against the railing again.  
She quickly climbed over and collapsed into the safety of the grass on the opposite side with a deep, relieved gasp of misty air. " _Ohhhhh, never fucking let me do that again_ ," she urged her partner.  
Whether those people were possessed or hostile survivors, Trevor had designated them as a threat to her. And she was in no position to question exactly why.   
  
Tommie put her belt back on with aching, trembling hands as she continued along the road beside the sea.   
The Gant Bridge appeared in the fog after some time, and she made her way toward the entrance ramp.  
Crossing the bridge alone was more than a mile and a half walk. Abandoned cars littered the way. Some parked where they were last used in traffic- others were left crashed into each other.  
More than a few with rotted bodies inside. Not all from crashes.   
Tommie couldn’t see more than thirty feet ahead thanks to the persistent fog.  
  
"See anything?" She asked, having to crawl over the hood of a crooked car to carry on.   
Trevor didn't answer. Maybe even he couldn't see through the fog. He certainly couldn't travel very far away from her to be sure.   
It was much too quiet and much too easy to get here.  
Something felt wrong.  
  
A blockade of taller vehicles up ahead.   
They had been arranged from bumper to bumper, horizontally to make a wall. Only a small gap between a city bus and a box truck was wide enough for her to squeeze through.  
Tommie hesitated.  
She stepped between the two and her leg caught on a wire that promptly snapped.   
A bunch of glass bottles strategically tied together dropped at her side and shattered on the pavement.   
A sound trap.  
“Fuck!” Tommie gasped and tried to squeeze back between the two vehicles as blindingly bright lights turned on up ahead. She turned her head toward it, shielding her eyes with her arm to try to glimpse at what was coming.  
A shot rang out, and a metallic bang of the bus beside her being struck by a bullet got her to move faster.   
She tripped, her foot caught against the box truck’s bumper and she tripped and fell onto her stomach.   
She quickly rolled behind the cover of the bus as another shot was fired.  
“It’s a fucking sniper,” she murmured in panic, keeping close to the bus, away from the windows to keep herself concealed. How could they see her through the fog!?  
Thermal scope. They had to have a thermal scope. And she let them know exactly where she was by touching the tripwire.   
_“RUN”_ _  
_ “He’ll shoot me,” she argued, then looked around for any way she could get away.  
  
Nearby cars could provide cover.  
Scattered all over the bridge- and she was only a quarter mile in.  
Tommie crouched low to the ground and moved toward a sedan. Another shot was fired and shattered the car’s passenger side window. Tommie yelped and flattened herself against the ground.  
The sniper was trained on her. And a thermal scope could pinpoint her even now.  
_Think._ _  
__Fucking think._ _  
__Something to-_  
“Trevor,” she gasped.   
He didn’t have a body, but he _did_ have a heat signature.  
One that was even hotter than her own body temperature.  
“I need you to be a distraction,” she told him. “Keep him off me. _  
_  
Seconds later, another shot echoed on the bridge. But the shot wasn’t on the vehicle she was hiding behind.  
She took advantage of the clear path, and army crawled along the ground to the next vehicle.  
Trevor could only stay so far from her, but he managed to keep gunfire off of her until it stopped all together- about half of the way she’d traversed across the bridge.  
“Those were probably the ones in the truck,” Tommie panted as she ran, searching for anywhere she could possibly use as shelter.  
The sun was starting to go down.   
Last thing she wanted was to be running around in the dark. Her flashlight would make her an obvious target surrounded by blackness.  
  
The closest set of buildings were a row of apartments in Paradiso, just off the bridge.   
While she didn't feel good about the location, there weren't many options to work with.  
After she hopped the fence in the back, Trevor unlocked the entrance and she slipped inside to lock and barricade the doors.  
She searched the kitchen of the empty unit for food and found some.  
Then she retreated to the only room without windows: the bathroom.  
  
A candle on the counter top provided light while she scoured the cabinets for supplies to take.  
Bandages, peroxide, antibacterial ointment. She used it immediately on her abused hands.  
First dangle over the ocean by a belt, now cut up by broken glass after crawling on the bridge to safety.  
__"Hurt."  
"I'm okay," she reassured. "We've been stabbed, remember? This is nothing…"   
She winced as she pulled a small shard of glass out of her palm with a pair of tweezers. She quickly wiped away the blood, disinfected, and covered the wound. "See? Nothing."


	4. Help

An alternate option to crossing the Gant Bridge was to cross the Garver Bridge instead.   
Which meant a long walk back toward where she started at the Easter Basin. And then crossing several miles of desert- which Tommie wasn’t well enough equipped for.  
Her map showed few rest stops. Which meant few opportunities for clean water or finding food.  
And open desert meant she was open to attack on all sides. Nowhere to hide, nowhere to take cover.  
But she didn’t have many options if she was up against a sniper.  
  
The fog had lingered into the following day.  
The gray, overcast sky implied that it may rain again sometime soon- which didn’t sound like it would be great to walk in again. A repeat of two days ago.  
Three whole days since she left the hotel. And she still hadn’t found a way back to San Andreas.  
She’d at least expected to have reached her neighborhood by then.  
  
Shit…  
Tommie dropped her map into her lap, head leaned against the wall at her back.  
What if she didn't find a way back? Then what?  
She heard a muffled bump from upstairs. The second floor unit.   
"A rat?" She asked in a low whisper.  
 _"Human."  
_ "Probably our friend from the bridge," she muttered, quietly getting to her feet and moving downstairs. "Just one? No demons?"  
 _"No"  
_ She carefully cleared the barricade on the back door and made her way up the stairs to the upstairs deck. She kept low as she neared the top, peering through the guard rail posts to see into the back door. One individual inside with a rifle, seeming to search for supplies inside the unit.   
She chose her sidearm for this. A rifle was a hassle to point around in an enclosed space.   
The person inside left the kitchen space, and disappeared down a hallway to the left.  
Tommie moved on, sliding open the back door and crouching behind a counter. Listening to footsteps grow closer.   
Closer…  
Closer……  
  
She darted a leg out from her hiding spot and the tall, lanky stranger tripped over it and landed hard on the floor, their gun skittering across the linoleum as Tommie pinned them down with her gun to the back of their head.   
"Don't scream," she ordered, searching through their pockets and finding a wallet. Useless, but she looked inside anyway to see a driver's license.  
"Holy shit--- _Lamar?_ "  
He tensed when he heard his name, head turning against the floor to look at her. "Rosa?"   
She got off of him and he got to his feet- and they immediately pulled into a tight hug.  
"You fucking beanpole, I thought I'd never see you again," Tommie’s words were muffled against his dark gray hoodie.  
"We saw your mom’s place was empty and your apartment burned down, we thought you were dead," Lamar replied.  
They pulled apart and Lamar picked his gun from the floor.  
"We?" She asked. "Franklin's here?"  
"Uh-huh," he answered. "Tracey too. N' her family."  
Tommie wanted to cry out of sheer relief.  
"Where's your mom at?"  
"She’s hiding out," Tommie replied. "We made it out together. Three months ago."  
Lamar looked relieved to hear that as well. "Look, if y'all need somewhere new to hide-"  
"We're separate," Tommie said. "I'm off on my own."  
He frowned. "Why?"  
Tommie shook her head. “I’ll explain later.”  
  
“ _Rosa!"_   
Tracey throwing her arms around Tommie’s shoulders nearly toppled her over, but Tommie just as happily clung onto her friend.  
“I’m so fuckin’ glad to see you,” Tommie cried when they separated, then spotted the others. One by one exchanging mutual excitement to see each other alive and well. Franklin, Jimmy, Michael, Amanda.  
They opted not to spend that day scavenging. Instead, staying in their hiding spot to catch up and rest.  
Tommie found it hard to relax. Even with Trevor's reassuring presence, she knew time was running out.  
How much longer would her family and friends be safe?  
“-are you out on your own anyway?”  
Tommie’s thoughts were interrupted by Amanda asking her the question. She debated lying about it- but she needed help. They might know a way back. “I’m looking for a boat. Have you seen any working ones? Any crappy little thing with a working motor is good enough.”  
“No, sorry,” Michael said. “We barely made it over here ourselves. We had to steal a boat out of Los Santos and it sprung a leak halfway here.”  
“The kids had to keep taking the water out,” Amanda added sadly. “It sunk when we were half a mile from the shore and we had to swim the rest of the way. Why do you need a boat?”  
“I need to get back to Los Santos,” Tommie said. “I tried crossing the Gant bridge to go to the marina in Tierra Robada, but there’s a sniper there. So I’m gonna have to cross the other bridge, and head through the desert.”  
“Why would you wanna go back to Los Santos?” Jimmy asked. “That’s fucking Ground Zero for whatever this is.  
“Because all of this is my fault.” Tommie answered before she could stop herself. “I _really_ fucked something up and it caused _all_ _of this_. I need to get back so I can fix it.” She looked at everyone’s expressions. All confused. “I need help to get there. Or else it’s just gonna keep spreading until everything is _gone_. Please… I don’t know if I can do this alone.”  
Silence from the others.  
  
Tommie decided not to stay the night.  
The tense silence following her plea for help told her it was best for her to leave; and she would use the cover of nightfall to cross the Garver bridge.  
The De Santas were nice enough to give her some food and fresh water before she left, and she slung her rifle over her shoulder as she stepped outside into the cool, moist night air.  
“Rosa.”  
She turned to see Tracey following after her with a pack of her own. Lamar and Franklin exiting the building behind her with their bags as well.  
“What are you guys doing?” Tommie frowned.  
“We ain’t lettin’ you go alone,” Lamar said matter-of-factly.  
“You said you can fix this shit, right?” Frankin asked. “You just need help getting back?”  
“I can try,” Tommie nodded, turning to Tracey. “Does your family know you’re doing this?”  
Tracey smirked. “You kidding? They’d never let me go if they knew. Jimmy and my parents'll be fine without me.” She started toward the Easter Basin. “Let’s get going, we’re burning moonlight.”  
Tommie watched as Lamar and Franklin followed after Tracey.   
She felt tears stinging her eyes, and blinked them back when she felt Trevor’s hand on her shoulder.   
“I got the best fuckin’ friends ever, Trev.” She wiped her eyes on the back of her hand and followed after them.


End file.
